


Self Forgiveness

by ElaneTheTired, MageArcher



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Reunions, Fix-It, I promise, Sad, but gets happier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-10-17 17:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20625152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElaneTheTired/pseuds/ElaneTheTired, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageArcher/pseuds/MageArcher
Summary: Driven out of Hearthstone by fear of Roshone's retribution, Kaladin's parents find their way to the shattered plains. They don't know it yet, but there they will find their long lost son, scarred and much changed by his years away from home. Maybe, just maybe they will be able to mend some of his cracks, and change the path of history...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once again a collab between my sister and me. We are both saddened at the lack of Lirin fics, and the tiny amount of fix-its in general. We don't know how long this will be yet, we have some plans but it generally depends on demand and how much time we'll have. Feel free to comment on any discrepancies.
> 
> Enjoy the work!

Lirin silently fumed on his way through the straight, orderly streets of the market in the Kholin military camp. Of course he didn’t allow those emotions to show on his face, his expression as calm and collected as always. Despite his experience, the surgeons in camp were once again sending him on odd gathering jobs, as if he were some newbie apprentice.

It speaks well of them Lirin reminded himself again. A new surgeon should not be trusted, until his skill has been proven. In a few days you will have had the opportunity to prove yourself, and you will stop wasting your time on children’s errands. 

It still rubbed him the wrong way. He hated being away from his work, especially when so many needed treatment after the disaster on the Tower. It had been two weeks since that fateful day, but the Kholin camp was still full of people who have not been treated yet. The waiting rooms were packed with those whose injuries were not severe enough to warrant immediate attention. 

Lirin and his wife had arrived at the shattered planes three days earlier, but have already heard a hundred tales of what had happened that day. The soldiers talked about a great, bloody battle against the Parshendi, that started as a sign of hope and friendship. Of Sadeas’ betrayal, of hopeless hours spent fighting the overwhelming numbers of enemies. Of a miracle, a single group of bridgemen that were brave enough to save an entire army. And of their leader, the legendary stormblessed, who had survived a highstorm, and fought like one.

Lirin put his musings aside as he entered the apothecary’s shop. The room inside was dimly lit by a few candles, and it smelled like herbs and antiseptic. A pair of men in blue kholin uniforms were standing at the counter arguing with the apothecary, an old man with squinty eyes and a mean attitude.

“I am telling you one last time,” the apothecary snapped, “I will not have any more supplies for at least a few more days. No one in all of the camps does. There is a shortage, and there is nothing you can do about it, no matter how many times a day you come to bother me. Now go away!” the old man’s voice became shrill towards the end. 

“No need to shout,” the soldier standing at the front snapped back. He was middle aged with salt and pepper hair, a neat grey beard, and lieutenant’s knots on his shoulders. “You’ve been telling us that you’re going to get it in a few days for a week now. Anyway, our captain just wants to keep track of the situation, always have a full stock, ya know? He’s a bit obsessive.” His expression was exasperated but surprisingly fond. Lirin had rarely seen soldiers talking about their commanding officer like that. 

“Nevermind,” said the man, “we’ll be out of your hair now”. He grinned at the apothecary's bald pate, and he and his silent companion turned to go. Spotting Lirin he grunted. “Not much point to it pal, they’re empty.”

”I can see that,” Lirin answered dryly. “You don’t happen to know where one can buy knobweed sap, do you? We are running low on it, and it would pose quite a problem if I come back empty handed.” 

His brow furrowed with worry. He was running possibilities through his mind, trying to find a solution for this unexpected problem. They might be able to use lesser antiseptics, but then the risk of infection spreading would be much higher. Lirin began to fidget nervously as he realized the repercussions of his possible failure. 

He was jolted back to reality by the soldiers voice. “That might be a problem,” the older man said, frowning. “If the surgeons run out, the whole army will be crawling with rotspren in a few days,” for a moment he looked like he was debating something with himself, and then he seemed to reach a decision.

He looked at his companion, who seemed to understand what he was thinking, and both of them shrugged. “You know,” he said slowly, “the bridges have their own medical supplies, and we happen to have lots of knobweed sap.” Both men seemed to be darkly amused at that for some reason. “I’m sure captain won’t mind if we give you some.” 

Immense relief washed through Lirin. “That would be very kind of you,” he said to the soldier. “I will pay for everything, of course.”

“Then come along,” grunted the soldier, and they all turned to go to the former bridgemen’s barracks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real adventure begins...

“I haven’t introduced myself,” Lirin said after a few minutes of silent walking. “My name is Lirin, I am one of the camp's surgeons.” The soldiers introduced themselves as Teft and Drehy, shaking his hand with their stronger, calloused ones.

"So, you new in camp?" Asked Teft casually.

"Is it that obvious?" Asked Lirin, a little flustered.

"T'is to us." chuckled Drehy. "Most people who'd been here for more than two weeks would be drownin' us in questions or offering to buy us a beer by now." His face became serious. "Almost everybody had family on that damned plateau."

"I wanted to ask" Lirin confessed, "but I imagined you were tired of everyone pestering you. My wife and I arrived at the plains three days ago, and we have already heard all about you. I just didn't want to intrude."

"Mighty thoughtful of you." Teft grunted. Silence settled for a few more minutes as they passed through the camp's busy streets and alleys, past haggling merchants, playing children and training soldiers. Despite all the activity, the camp seemed half empty. More than once they passed women wearing mourning clothes, and injured men staring emptily into space.

"So," said Teft to break the uncomfortable quiet somehow, "what brings a surgeon to this heralds forsaken place so late in the war?"

Lirin debated with himself for a moment whether or not to answer the man's questions, but then decided there was no harm in it. These soldiers seemed like decent people, in their own, callous way, and it has been a while since he had just engaged in smalltalk with someone.

"Unfortunate circumstances" he answered, with a small, sad smile. "We used to live in a small town in Sadeas, but the city lord had a grudge against me. A while ago it became unbearable, and we decided to leave while our heads were still attached to our shoulders." He automatically looked around as he spoke, checking there were no lighteyes within earshot. "We wandered for a while, and eventually ended up here."

Both soldiers grimaced sympathetically at him. "None like us to understand you, pal. Most of the people in the bridges ended up there thanks to one lighteyed bastard or another. T'was smart to get out of there while you still could." Said Teft as they turned a corner into an alley between two barracks that ended in an open space. The yard they came out to was large, and full of soldiers. Some of them were being trained by officers, others ran this way and that, preoccupied by their tasks. 

"We're here." Teft announced as they emerged from the narrow alley, and headed to one of the groups of soldiers being trained by an imposing man. Lirin studied him with interest, as by the captain's knots on his shoulders he had guessed that this was the legendary stormblessed, saviour of the Kholin army and captain of the cobalt guard.

He was tall even for an Alethy, slim, but not lanky. His spotless blue uniform showed the outline of wide shoulders and corded muscle, a warrior's figure. He had long black hair, that almost covered the slave brands on his forehead, and dark brown eyes. His face was hard and withered, but surprisingly young for a man of his position. And the more Lirin looked at that face, the closer he came, the more familiar these features looked. He was busy explaining something to the soldiers in front of him, but stopped as Teft called out to him, turning to look at their approaching group.

"Captain." Teft and Drehy saluted sharply. "There are no supplies yet, but we are not the only ones who have that problem. The surgeons have run out of knobweed. I thought as we had a lot we could…" Teft trailed off in mid sentence, as he realized his words were falling on deaf ears. 

The captain had started scanning their group with a cursory glance, but as his eyes fell on Lirin, he froze in place, still like a statue. Emotion flashed across his face: surprise, disbelief, pain, and many, many others that Lirin could not read. It was then, when the young man's hard face turned open and vulnerable that the surgeon realised who was standing before him. His jaw dropped, and he reached out a hand, as if to touch, to confirm that he was real, but the man had already turned around and was very quickly walking away. 

"Kaladin!" Lirin shouted desperately, making a step forward, but he was stopped by a spear-tip that rested against his throat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, from now on we will try to post a chapter every week. Enjoy!

Lirin gulped slowly, forcefully tearing his eyes away from the mouth of the alley down which his son had disappeared a moment ago. His son. Kaladin. Safe. A former bridgman, with slave brands. And captain of the royal guard. His head spun from relief, information overload and too many questions, but he forced himself to concentrate on the problem at hand. 

He stood in the middle of a circle of bridgmen, many of which were leveling their spears at him, expressions much more hostile than they were a few seconds earlier. Teft was standing directly in front of him, spear resting against Lirin's adam's apple. His eyes were cold and hard as ice, as he stared directly into the surgeon's.

"You know" he said quietly, "I have known our captain for a while now. I have seen him run towards certain death time and time again, charge into battle without flinching. But I have never once seen him run from anything. Or anyone." His spear pressed a little closer to Lirin's throat. "Who are you?!" He demanded, voice almost a growl at this point.

"I'm…" he hesitated and swallowed again, acutely aware how easy it would be for the man to sever his arteries. "I'm his father". The words sounded almost strange in his own ears. It has been years since he had thought of himself as a father.

"Oh…" said Drehy quitely.

Silence reigned in the courtyard for a few excruciating moments, until it was broken by the rolling laughter of a huge horneater. All bridgmen turned to stare at him as he kept laughing on and on, their spears lowering automatically.

“Yes, I see family resemblance now.” he said finally, wiping tears from his eyes. “And past was the only thing our dear captain ever ran from. Airsick lowlander.” he shook his head, turning away from the scene, and walking to one of the buildings nearby, whistling a careless tune.

“Yes…” Teft said slowly. He looked back at the surgeon, who had finally lost all sense of reality, with eyes full of sympathy. He rubbed at his temples tiredly. “I will talk to Kal. I am sure he’ll come around eventually. Must have been quite a shock.” he glanced at the surgeon again. “You should probably head home. Oh, and talk to Rock over there about the herbs,” and he nodded at the horneater. With that, Teft disappeared into the same alley as Kaladin.

* * *

It had taken all of Kaladin's self control not to start running in front of his soldiers. The moment he turned a corner he didn't hold back any longer. He ran, without looking back, hearing nothing over the rush of blood in his ears. 

He didn't remember how he got to the chasms, barely stopped himself from jumping right down, recalling the rope ladder in the last moment. He climbed down and kept running, not caring to mark his way.

Eventually his strength ran out, and he collapsed near a rough chasm wall. He sat there, knees pressed against his chest, curled up, trying to make himself as small as he could. Syl watched worriedly from where she hung in front of him. Every once in a while she opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it every time. She did not know what it was that had made her human panic like that, but sensed that talking was not what he needed right now.

She hovered there for a few more moments, caught in indecision, and then zipped away, turning into a ribbon as she went, and disappeared down one of the chasms.

An indeterminate amount of time passed in the stillness of this underground realm, until the silence was interrupted by the sound of steps. Kaladin turned his head sharply, but only groaned and dropped it back down when he saw Teft, led by Syl's transparent form.

"Go away. I will be back in a few hours in time to take my shift. Moash probably needs help with training, there is no reason for you to spend your time here." He felt a pang of guilt, about how he left Moash alone to face the other soldiers. His soldiers. It would probably affect morale too...

The older man sat down cross-legged in front of him, carefully avoiding a puddle with a few bones sticking from it.

"I will take your shift." He announced unceremoniously. "You, on the other hand, are going to see your family." Now Kaladin was glaring at him, but the old soldier met his gaze calmly. This silent fight continued for a few moments, until Kaladin cracked. Old pain settled deep in his eyes, and he looked down.

"I can't." His voice was tired, anger and conviction gone.

"Why not?" Teft raised an eyebrow.

Kaladin stayed silent for a few minutes. Teft waited patiently, listening to the distant sounds of dripping water and scuttling cremlings. When the younger man spoke again, his voice was emotionless. "I had a brother once." The past tense did not escape Teft's notice, and neither did the wince that contorted his features for a moment. "His name was Tien. When Amaram came recruiting to my home town, the city lord forced him to volunteer because he had a grudge against my father."

"Tien was eleven years old, and would faint at the sight of blood. I knew he wouldn't survive on his own. So I volunteered. To protect him." He smiled bitterly. "A few months later I saw him die on the battlefield. I barely knew how to hold a spear then, and I was not fast enough."

Silence settled between them again. Teft waited patiently again, unwilling to rush the man in front of him. This was the most Kaladin had ever told any of them about himself, and it gave him much food for thought. Suddenly he understood much better where his captain's scars took root.

"Guess I was a coward back then, too." Kaladin said eventually. "I sent them a letter, explaining what happened, and stayed in the army. Trained half to death, became squad leader. Led men into battle. But I never gathered the courage to return home. To look them in the eyes and tell them I failed."

He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. "There. You got your story. Maybe if you tell it to the others they will stop thinking I am all powerful." He attempted a smile, but it came out more a grimace than anything else.

Teft worried for his captain when he was in his usual, energetic and determined state, which could sometimes lead him to do very dangerous things, but what he was seeing now, that despair and hopelessness that Kaladin couldn't quite hide, reminded him sharply of the hollow-eyed man he had met when he just arrived at the bridges. Teft decided that this was enough.

He put his hand carefully on the other man's shoulder. Kaldin stiffened, but didn't dislodge it. "Listen. I understand it must be hard for you, because so much time has passed, and you haven't seen them in years. I don't want to know what you have imagined to yourself, what you think your parents think of you. But trust me, I have seen that man's expression as you left. There is nothing in all of Roshar he wants more than to see you again."

Slowly, Kaladin looked up at his lieutenant. For the first time, Teft saw him so hesitant, so unsure. Really? Do you really think so? His eyes seemed to ask.

"Did I ever lie to you?" Teft winked at him, barely managing to hide a wince at that not-quite-lie.

"Not that I know of. " Kaladin answered distractedly. Once again, he took a deep breath, gathering his courage, and then stood up in one smooth, springy motion. Teft stood hurriedly after him.

"You will take my shift?" The older man nodded. "I will be back tomorrow morning." With that, Kaladin took off at a run, Syl laughing and clapping her hands delightedly, flying in circles above him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, as promised. Finally, the awaited confrontation begins. Enjoy! 
> 
> (Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated :-) )

Lirin stumbled through the next few hours like through a dream. The large horneater handed him the knobweed with no need for explanations, giving him a grin and a friendly clap on the shoulder that almost made him fall to the ground.

The walk back to the infirmary was excruciatingly slow, time seemed to stretch and slow down, as if he were moving through honey. Only his thoughts seemed to move at normal speed;

_ Kaladin is alive. Kaladin is here. He looks so much older. He ran away from me. Hesina, oh heralds I have to tell Hesina. Kaladin… _

They spun on and on in an endless circle. He barely paid attention to the surgeons he gave the medicine to, answering their questions instinctively and without thinking. Finally he was done there, and basically ran home, ignoring the startled cries of people he bumped into on the street. 

He burst through the door of their little apartment red faced and panting to find his wife cooking in the small corner kitchen. She looked at him in surprise. "Is everything alright, dear?" She asked, concern lacing her words.

"Kaladin" Lirin managed to say, and she froze in place. He was out of breath, but kept speaking in short gasps, staring into the eyes of the woman he loved, more excited than he had been in years.

"He is here... in camp. Captain… of the cobalt guard… I saw him." Hesina finally came out of her stupor. She approached her husband slowly, clasping his shoulders tightly, unable to look away from his shining eyes. "Are you sure, Lirin?" Her voice was quite yet very urgent. "Are you sure you saw our son?"

He nodded, sitting down in one of the chairs, pulling her to sit in front of him. He told her everything, his lucky encounter with the two bridgmen, the walk through camp, the barracks. How Kaladin ran away…

Hesina didn't interrupt, but when he finished she buried him in questions. How did he look? Was he healthy? What glyphs were branded on his forehead? Did he say anything? Why did he run away?

When the questions ceased, silence settled in the small kitchen. Hesina took a few shuddering breaths, and gave him a shaky smile. A person who didn't know her well wouldn't have noticed, but he saw how hard she was fighting her tears. They sat like that, unmoving, as darkness slowly descended upon the shattered plains, each lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, the smell of burning tallew woke them from that dreamlike state, and Hesina got up hurriedly to tend to their half-charred dinner. "What are we going to do, Lirin?" She asked quietly after a while. "How are we going to talk to him. What if he… what if he doesn't want to see us?" That thought hurt, but she was a practical woman and knew how to ask the right questions.

"I don't know" her husband admitted, frowning. "That man, Teft, promised he would talk to Kal, but he was always so stubborn…" there was silence for a few more seconds, and then the surgeon shook his head, and his expression turned into one of conviction.

"I don't know" he repeated, "but it doesn't matter. He is alive and well, and that means we will find a way. Even if we have to-"

He was interrupted by a hesitant knock on the door. They Looked at each other, and Lirin got up and slowly approached the door to open it. He wondered who would bother them at such an hour. Was there an emergency in the infirmary?

All such thoughts fled his mind as he opened the door and saw who stood behind it. He looked just like a few hours earlier, if a bit more disheveled, and lacking a spear. The air of authority that had impressed Lirin so much when he first saw Kaladin had also disappeared. He seemed smaller, uncertain, almost afraid.

"Father," his voice was hoarse "I… I am sorry." He looked up into his father's eyes then, and Lirin again saw that deep, all-consuming pain, and, to his surprise, the gleam of unshed tears. Before the young man could speak any further, Lirin stepped in and embraced him, holding as tight as he could to his lost child, as if to make sure he didn't run away again.

Kaladin hadn't expected that, so he didn't move or resist the contact. For an amount of time that seemed infinite, but was probably no more than a moment, he stood still with shock, a distant part of him marveling at how warm it was. 

And then, Kaladin stormblessed began to cry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The great reunion commences! It was really hard to write this chapter, I hope I managed to make you feel some of the things I did while writing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Kaladin didn't know how long he cried. It seemed that all the tears he had refused to shed these past few years have suddenly become determined to acquire their freedom. He also hadn't noticed when his parents had pulled him inside the house, only aware of the second pair of hands that now embraced him, and the soft, half forgotten voice from his childhood that whispered gentle words into his ear.

Eventually the tears ceased, and stillness descended upon the small space of the apartment. Kaladin didn't move a muscle, suddenly afraid that if he did, the illusion around him would shatter and he would wake up in his captain's quarters, or maybe find himself wounded and delirious on the shattered plains. Hesina's hand was still caressing his hair softly, and he could feel her warm breath where her face was pressed against his neck. He wanted to stay like this forever, but of course everything ends sooner or later. 

Lirin was the first to move, distancing himself enough to look up at his son (even kneeling on the floor as they were, Kaladin was still substantially taller). Only now, looking at his father's wet cheeks, the young man realized with some surprise that his parents have been crying too. 

"Promise me" the surgeon said quietly, "that no matter what happens, you will not disappear like that again."

Guilt and pain, all the emotions that were temporarily suppressed by the happy reunion, once again reared their ugly heads to remind Kaladin of their existence. He looked down and took a deep breath, preparing to finish the speech Lirin had interrupted earlier, but the surgeon took his chin, gently but firmly, forcing his son to meet his gaze again. There was no judgment in those brown eyes, only love and concern. 

It broke something inside Kaladin, made a crack in the wall of blood and bones he had built to protect himself against the cruel world. How long has it been since anyone had looked at him like that? He could not seem to remember…

"I know why you left. We know. And we don't blame you. Just please, don't distance yourself from us, don't run away. We worry for you, and will always support you however we can, if you just let us. We were so afraid that you were lost to us too..."

Kaladin nodded slowly, still unable to look away, and attempted a smile. It felt strange after so long, and came out a bit shaky, but it still seemed to light up his face, smoothing out some of the creases and making it younger. "I promise".

Lirin smiled back at his son, and then his wife took over. "Dinner is going cold." She announced, pulling both of them to their feet and herding them to the kitchen table. She served vegetable soup and slightly charred tallew in simple wooden bowls, and joined them as they ate, silently enjoying the sight of her son eating dinner. 

They didn't speak while they ate, all understanding there was too much to talk about to do it with mouths full of food, instead watching each other and getting reacquainted with each other's presence.

Both parents noted with some worry that Kaladin's dining manners have changed. He ate quickly and methodically, slightly hunched over his food, as if afraid someone would take it away. They exchanged meaningful glances, but did not comment. Whatever events have influenced their son so, they will know soon enough.

Finally dinner was over, Kaladin silently helped his mother gather the dirty dishes and wash them in the cramped little kitchen. Then they were once again seated around the table, both parents looking expectantly at their son. Kaladin looked at them with a mixture of uncertainty and resignment, trying to collect his thoughts.  _ Everyone is very patient with me tonight, _ he thought wryly.

"I guess I have a lot to tell you," he said eventually. "I will warn you in advance, most of it is not pleasant." Lirin nodded in understanding and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Kaladin flinched at the contact, but did not stop him. He took a deep breath, and started talking.

He spoke of his first days in the army, of training, harsh lieutenants, and quiet evenings spent with Tien. He spoke woodenly of the fateful battle where Tien died, of his own helplessness and anger. He told them of endless days spent training in a fevered frenzy, of the distrust and scorn that followed his promotion, of endless bribes paid to keep his soldiers alive.

He forced out of himself the story of his last battle in Amaram’s army, of his desperate rush to keep the brightlord alive. Of the shardbearer, Amaram's betrayal and his brands. He looked up then, afraid to see the anger and scorn that had followed this story every time he told it, only to find horror and tears of compassion. Relieved, he forged on.

He told them of the months spent in captivity, of his attempts to escape. Hollowly, he recounted the names of those he had failed to save. Finally he got to the bridges, skirting around his close encounter with the honor chasm, and the one who saved him at the last moment. Instead he talked of inspiration, a determination to do it right, at least once. Of his failed attempts, his punishment by highstorm. Of the tower, and finally, their salvation.

A silence heavy with pain and loss hung between them as the sound of Kaladin's voice bled into nothingness. Lirin was at a loss for words. It seemed that in his five years away from home, his son had managed to try all the sorrows and cruelties of the world on his own skin. A glance at Hesina told him that her thoughts ran on a similar track. And so, without a word, they rose to embrace their son once more.

It was easier for him to relax into their touch this time. A part of him still rebelled at the casual contact, at the fact that there was someone standing behind him while he was weaponless. He mercilessly shut down that part, choosing to instead wallow in the tenuous feeling of safety created by this cocoon of hands and bodies.

He was startled from his dreamlike state by an irritated cough. His eyes flew open and he jerked back, dislodging his parents from their respective places around him. Syl, who has been suspiciously quiet throughout the evening now hovered in front of his face. She wore her girlish form, hands on hips, staring accusingly at him. For a moment she reminded him so much of Tarah…

He shook his head to clear it, and raised an eyebrow at her, silently inquiring what the problem was, though he had a feeling that he already knew.

"Well? Are you not going to tell them about me? Don't I deserve to be a part of your story?" She sounded accusing, and hurt.

Kaladin sighed inwardly. He had not mentioned her in his story, partially out of fear, and partially out of hope he could deal with this on another day. So much had happened today that his head and heart were filled to burst. It seemed that Syl would not let it go so easily however.

He looked around, searching for a place he could go to talk with her discreetly for a moment, but found none. The whole apartment was one open space, with an alcove that contained a bed in the corner.

"I think that is enough for today." He said out loud, still looking at his stubborn spren. She huffed in irritation, stepping even closer to his face so that he almost went cross eyed trying to look at her.

"If you don't introduce me, I will introduce myself!" She threatened.

By this time Lirin had realized that something was wrong. His son was staring into empty air, and his last sentence, though coherent, did not quite fit the situation; as if he were talking to someone else. Sticky, cold fear wormed its way into his heart once more. Was Kaladin perhaps not completely sane? The Almighty knows that after all he has been thorough, it is likely that a man, even one as strong as him could… crack. Lirin was no expert on illnesses of the mind, but he vaguely remembered meeting one in the infirmary a few days ago. Perhaps he could help…

He was torn out of his panicked thoughts by Kaladin's resigned sigh. "Alright, fine." He muttered, eyes still focused in front of him, then turned to look at his parents.

"Mom, dad, I want you to meet someone. This is Sylphrena." As he said so, a spren materialized, floating above his shoulder. She was small and semi-transparent, in the form of a young woman wearing a dress that dissolved into mist just below the knees. As she became visible she curtsied, giggling in delight. Before Lirin had any more time to worry, she chimed in a high, clear voice:

"Hello! It's so nice to meet you! Kaladin told me so much about you!" And she laughed again, zipping around their heads. Kaladin cleared his throat and continued.

"Yeah. Syl is an honor spren, though she likes acting like her windspren cousins. I met her before I arrived at the shattered plains, and she saved my life more times than I can count." He was babbling at this point and he knew it, but had no better idea of how to explain himself, so he soldiered on.

"Syl and I have a thing called a  _ Nahel bond _ . I don't know exactly what it is, and she can't remember either, but in short it makes me-"

"A windrunner." Whispered a shocked Hesina.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos make us happy, and comments make us even happier!


End file.
